Run
by tamarenne
Summary: Clark Kent learns that destiny means nothing without Lana  Lang at his side.
1. Chapter 1

**Chapter 1**

RUN

The doctor's office was finally beginning to return to some semblance of sanity. There were only a few patients left in the waiting room and the phones had already been swithed to the service. Stella grimaced inwardly, picked up the topmost chart and headed to the waiting room to collect the doctor's next patient. She glanced at the clock over the nurses' station and sighed: four pm. Sam, her fiancé, had picked up 5:30 movie tickets and there were still three or four patients remaining.

"Lex Luthor's ex", Mrs. Monk, the office manager, whispered meaningfully and nodded toward the large windows that separated the office area from the waiting room. There sat an exquisite girl holding a closed magazine on her lap. "She was in here last week for an examination. Back for consultation."

Stella read the name typed neatly atop the chart: "Lana Lang". She appraised the girl as she headed toward the door. The first thing she noticed was the eyes. Stella marveled. The girl sat at least ten feet from the reception counter, even so, she could make out every detail. They were huge and dark, with thick lashes. The irises seemed to shimmer even under the indirect lighting of the office. They were framed in a porcelain face composed of tiny features under a perfect waterfall of straight brown black hair that a geisha would die for.

Miss Lana Lang seemed to be average height, and delicately built. Her clothing, a perfectly tailored grey turtleneck, grey trousers, black pea coat, oozed style in a very non-boutique way that was very unusual for a girl so young. All in all, stunningly beautiful, Stella noted with more than a trace of envy. A feeling that the girl looked strangely familiar came to mind.

All-in-all, the kind of girl one might see linked in the papers to billionaires and famous movie stars, she thought to herself. The thought of billionaires made her think briefly of Lex Luthor who had been laid to rest a few weeks earlier.

She glanced again at the clock: four ten. She hoped she was not going to miss that movie with Sam because of this strange girl who looked to be the very picture of health. She wondered exactly WHY Lana Lang was at the doctor's office as she opened the door and called her name.

Lana didn't respond. She seemed lost in thought. Stella tried to keep the impatience out of her voice and called her name again.

The girl remained motionless, staring at nothing with those massive eyes. It looked for all the world as if this Lana Lang were on the verge of tears and despite herself Stella felt her attitude soften a bit. She tried again.

"Miss Lang?" She called, a bit less brusquely.

Lana shuddered and looked up to see the doctor's assistant holding the door leading to the examination rooms. Lana had no idea how many times the nurse had called her name but judging from her tone, it was not the first time.

Sheepishly, Lana gathered her things and wordlessly followed the nurse down a brightly lit vanilla colored corridor into Doctor Spring's office.

"The doctor will be with you in a few minutes." Stella announced professionally as she opened Lana's chart and laid it on the desk for the doctor. Her eyes bulged ever so slightly when two words scrawled in the doctor's own handwriting caught her attention: "meteor infected".

Her gaze flickered to the exquisite girl who quietly took a seat, and she quickly shifted her glance back to the charts. She dropped them on the table and let herself out of the examination room. It's really too bad, she thought to herself wistfully. As Stella closed the door behind her, her mind's synapses made the final connection. With a shock she suddenly realized just why Lana Lang looked so familiar!

She snuck quickly into an empty examination room and whipped out her cell. She quick dialed three and let the phone ring until at last her boyfriend answered.

"Hey honey, we're still on for the flick right?"

Her boyfriend's voice sounded groggy and Stella felt irritated. The jerk was SUPPOSED to be job hunting. But the reason for her call was priority one so she mentally let it go and whispered breathlessly into the phone, "Honey, you'll never guess who's in our examination room... Mrs. Lex Luthor!"

Stella would have been quite shocked to learn that Lana had heard every word of her conversation. But Lana had bigger fish to fry so she filed it away for the moment. Instead, Lana toyed nervously with the clear kryptonite pendant that hung around her neck. And waited.

She didn't have to wait long. The doctor was amazingly prompt. He opened the door with a wide smile plastered on his face. "Good news, Lana," he announced as he took his seat at his desk.

"Oh great, well I'm all ears," Lana replied. She adopted her own interpretation of Doctor Spring's smile and affected a relaxed pose. But she was not fooled. She could hear the doctor's heartbeat.

...

One hour later Lana was behind the wheel of her rented Volvo. She rolled down the windows and inhaled deeply the carbon laced air of downtown Manhattan, her nerves taught as a wire with the doctor's prognosis sawing away at the middle.

She tried to concentrate on driving as she pulled out of the parking garage but it was a no go.

"How can this be happening?" She moaned inwardly. She had mapped out every possible complication. Except this one.

Her mind rolled back to her last day with Clark, a month earlier. Her memory detailed every nuance of his beautiful face twisted in agony as they kissed what was likely their last goodbye, his features corrupted by the intense Kryptonite poisoning that carved deep ravines into his normally impenetrable skin.

She could still feel the pressure of his lips pressing against her own. The weeks that had passed since had unearthed particulars from her recalcitrant memory that had been lost in the intensity of the moment. Like the softness of his lips against her own. Lips that had always brought to mind satin stretched taught against marble, had been rendered soft, pliant.

It had been intended to be a kiss to last a lifetime and it had lived up to that billing. They had both poured the unspoken, the unspeakable, and enough love to last ten lifetimes into that moment.

Lana came out of her daydream just in time to slam on the brakes, barely avoiding some hapless pedestrian attempting to cross the street. The terrified pedestrian, an older gentleman, glared at her malevolently and hurried to the other side, shaking his fist.

She gave up and parked the car in the first empty parking spot. She lay her head against the wheel and let the tears come, great pearlescent tears that rolled down her cheeks and plopped one by one onto her cashmere sweater.

"Why now?"

Her cell began to vibrate in her purse. Cautiously, Lana retrieved it and checked the caller ID. Chloe.

She looked at the phone, debating, as it continued to buzz. She knew Chloe well enough to know that the phone would ring forever before she gave up. She flipped it open.

"Hi, Chloe" She forced the best approximation of a cheery tone that she could manage.

"What took so long? Is everything okay Lana?"

Lana rolled her eyes. Nothing ever got past Chloe. She sighed. Answering had been a mistake.

"No no, of course not. What could be wrong?" she lied. "After all, I'm pretty much bullet proof these days." She bit her lip. Sure enough, Chloe took her words at face value.

"Lana, has someone been SHOOTING at you?"

"Of course not, it's just a figure of speech."

Chloe paused. Somehow she didn't seem convinced. And who could blame her. However, she seemed to let it go.

"So you never told me, any news from the good doctor?"

"Excuse me?" Lana thought fast. She would have to pick her words carefully. Just a little information, just enough to hide the truth. For now.

"Dr Groll, silly. Any news on that front?"

"Oh, that!" Lana bit her lip again. She remembered something she had heard once. A little truth goes a long way toward hiding a big secret.

"Nothing much, just some tests. Just to see how far I can push my body. It also seems I can take injections. As long as the force does not reach a damaging level, the needle can be inserted between cells."

Chloe's voice took on a concerned tone. "Lana does that mean you aren't impervious to gunfire?"

"No not at all! It means that the suit does nothing until subjected to damaging force. It sort of kicks in then, and any force applied is repelled by an equal amount of return energy. Or something like that. You'd have to ask the doctor, I didn't major in molecular biology."

Chloe sounded mollified. "That sounds good; that is a good thing isn't it?"

Lana laughed. "Well, unless I want to be a living statue, I think it is. Otherwise I would be rendered unable to move."

"Well how is it that Clark is able to move then?" Chloe gasped at her own stupidity. Did I just say that? She had used the "C" word.

"I don..I don't know." Lana tried to force out more but her throat felt constricted. Clark! Even the word hurt. She rolled down the car window and inhaled deeply.

"Lana? Lana, are you there? Lana I'm so sorry I know I promised" Chloe felt like kicking herself. The most pregnant pause of all pregnant pauses was finally put to rest by Lana.

"It's okay Chloe," Lana replied gently. She suddenly felt very tired. It wasn't okay. Especially not right now. "If Chloe begins to suspect anything, it's all over!" She reminded herself unnecessarily. Lana blinked back the tears and tried to sound casual.

"Don't worry about it. It had to happen sometime, didn't it?"

Chloe began to hem and haw over the phone and Lana stiffened. Chloe never did know when to leave well enough alone.

"As long as the "C" word has been put out there…. Lana, won't you let me tell him where you are?"

"Absolutely NOT, Chloe" Lana fumed into the phone. Despite herself her voice rose. "If you tell Clark a word about my whereabouts until I'm ready, I'll never forgive you Chloe".

"Okay Lana calm down, I won't breathe a word, I promise! It's just that.."

"Chloe!" Lana's voice was firm.

On the other end of the line, Chloe sighed. She knew that tone and she knew that the subject was closed. She covered the receiver with her palm and glanced behind her, and shook her head.

"I'm a bit rushed, Chloe. We'll talk another time, if that's ok." Lana's voice made it clear, the conversation was over.

"Alright, Lana! Take care of yourself, call soon!" Chloe mustered up her perkiest phone voice and they hung up.

Lana flipped her cell shut. The mere mention of Clark's name was too much.

Clark Kent, corn-fed farm boy, Alien born thousands of light years from earth. Geeky boy next door, high school quarterback, last son of Krypton, and maybe savior of mankind. And the love of her life.

Tears danced over her porcelain cheeks as she parked the car at the airport and dropped the keys into the car rental box.

She flipped open her phone and dialed. The phone on the other end rang once and a very familiar voice picked up.

"Hello Miss Lang"

"I'm at the airport. I will be there tomorrow morning"

The voice on the other end sounded concerned. "I just received the fax from Doctor Spring, and have started the ball rolling on this end."

Lana struggled to keep her voice even.

"Thank you Doctor Groll." She flipped the phone closed and hurried into the terminal to catch her flight.

...

Chloe hung up the phone and turned to face the imposingly tall, powerfully built man standing a few feet behind her. Of course he had heard every word. This was his idea and she glowered at him angrily. But one look at his face, one look at those lost puppy eyes and her heart melted. She shook her head sadly.

Clark Kent slammed his fist into his palm. "I'm sorry Chloe. I thought it was worth a try". His face brightened a little. Very little. "At least, I heard her voice."

Chloe began to gather her things. "I need to get back to Jimmy before he wakes." She looked directly at Clark, her face suddenly shifted into that patent Chloe passive-aggressive accusatory look that Clark had come to know so well over the years. "Lois is waiting."

Clark felt the sting. Jimmy had been grievously injured at the wedding reception a month earlier, and was still recovering. Chloe and Lois alternated shifts watching over him at hospital.

"Give Jimmy my regards. Tell him I'll be up soon to visit."

"And Lois?" Chloe's gaze never wavered.

Clark forced a smile. "Tell her hi." He said, simply. What more was there to say? It seemed everyone expected that he could just move on and that Lois was his next chapter. Somehow, he didn't feel like writing that novel, just yet. Not while there was the slimmest hope that Lana could be cured.

He glanced at his wristwatch. Five pm. "I need to get back to the farm." He placed his hand on Chloe's shoulder. "Thanks, Chloe. I'm sorry for putting you in the middle, again. But I do feel better knowing she is okay."

Chloe turned back to the computer and grimaced.

"Well I feel like a rat", she croaked. A sudden breeze behind her and a small tornado of paperwork on her desk told her that she was talking to herself.

...

Clark placed his TV dinner on the antique steamer trunk that served as his coffee table and flipped open his notebook. The run from Metropolis to the farm had been too quick. The trip took only a second or two now. His powers seemed to grow exponentially by the day, and each day the farm chores got that much easier to perform. So much for working off frustration!

He longed for a bit of exertion but it took less than five minutes to complete the farm chores, chores that would generally take half a dozen farmhands a full day to complete. He had forgotten what it felt like to break a sweat. But at least he kept the farm running, and he was happy here. On the farm, he could be himself, away from prying eyes. . In Metropolis, every moment was spent hiding. And the lies never stopped. Contrary to what he told others, Metropolis was a necessary evil. The farm was still where he belonged.

Metropolis and his job there served one purpose, as a means to an end. His heart lay in the grassland. Lois was right when she jeeringly called him Smallville. That was who he was, and he was proud of it. How could anyone who had never been raised on a farm understand? The smell of the fields at harvest. The familiar hoot owls calling through the night. Tending livestock, milking cows. It was everything he could have ever wanted. Almost. Except for one thing. Except for his need, his constant need, for HER. He had given his heart to Lana the very first time he saw her. A small exotic girl who had made it all good for most of his life. his one-time best friend, Lex, had taken it all away.

Destiny had taken her away from him, as Clark always knew it would. He had known somehow for as long as he loved Lana Lang that they were screwed. It was a feeling that he had ignored again and again. It was a gnawing in the pit of his stomach that he held at bay, until now. Now it was done and so was that part of his life.

It was then that Clark remembered something Lana had said long ago. "It isn't destiny, but we ourselves who control our future."

Clark knew in his heart Lana was right. It wasn't destiny. Instead, it was his one-time best friend, Lex, who had taken it all away.

He ate his TV dinner without tasting it, which was almost certainly a blessing, because the frozen dinner wasn't very appetizing. As soon as he finished his dinner, he felt restless.

Oliver was out of town, and Chloe and Lois were taking care of a recuperating Jimmy Olsen in Star City.

He paused to think how odd it was to think of Jimmy as Chloe's husband. Chloe Sullivan was now Chloe Olsen. .

It was also something of a relief, Clark had to admit to himself. He would do just about anything for Chloe, but she was the closest thing to the sister he had never had, and nothing more.

In any event, considering that Lois would be there, silently questioning him with those eyes it seemed, Clark decided to defer that trip for another day.

Clark closed the laptop and tried to relax watching television. He gave up on that pretty quickly, and it wasn't long before he found himself pacing the floor, his path travelling ever closer to the highboy in the corner.

At last he gave in, and stopped directly in front of the ancient dresser that had been made by Hiram Kent. He placed one hand on either side as if to steady himself. He then began to open the topmost drawer slowly, as if there were kryptonite inside. He gingerly retrieved a dark, frayed photo album that had clearly seen its day.

He held it for a very long time and did not open it. He ran his fingers over the binding. He did not want to open it. Half an hour passed, and Clark Kent remained in that spot, listing in his mind, over and over, every reason he could think of to return the offending item to the drawer. "The past is the past, leave it there." He reminded himself. But somehow he felt short circuited. Frustration began to mount, at himself for his weakness, followed by the pent up anger that seethed below the surface.

All at once, all the rage, the loss, the downright misery came to bear within, and he threw the album like a Frisbee, and off it sailed through the open window, over the outbuildings, across the pasture and on and on. The album sailed into the moonlit night across the county line until it came to rest eighteen miles from the Kent farm. And when it landed, Clark Kent was there to catch it. He held it in his arms and sank onto his knees in a mossy cow pasture.

Tears rolled down his face and he cradled the photo-album as if it were the most precious child. At length, he opened the book and it fell to the spot where it had been opened last, as books will do. There she was. The girl he had loved every day of his life for as long as he could remember. She was dressed for riding, and stood next to her horse, with her beautiful hair tucked neatly in a cap. Another photo. And another. He soaked them all in.

He hung his head and closed the book. "I love you, Lana", he whispered into the night.. At last, he got up, intending to speed back to the farm. But he changed his mind. Instead he quickly dropped off the photo-album and then sped away.

He began to run. He ran for hours, until he lost count of the number of times he had traversed North and South America, from the tip of Alaska until he reached the ice flows off the southernmost point of Chile. On the way, strange things happened.

A group of baby seal hunters suddenly found their clubs missing in Alaska. Bank robbers in Texas were foiled as their get-away car turned upside down. A semi truck stranded on railroad tracks in Mexico was lifted mysteriously out of the path of an approaching train.

As Clark neared Kansas for about the hundredth time that evening, he checked his watch. Nearly two am. He wasn't really fatigued yet, but he would need some sleep so he changed course and headed for Smallville. Before he reached the farm he made his nightly stop.

In a flash, he found himself kneeling at his dad's grave, in the little county cemetery half a mile from the Kent family farmhouse.

"Goodnight, dad" he whispered into the still night and ran his fingertips over the cold granite stone that marked the remains of his adopted father, the finest man he had ever known. The man who had taught him everything he knew about how to be a man. Jonathan Kent had sacrificed his own life for that of his adopted son. Clark wondered what life might be like now, if he had not reversed time. He shuddered inwardly, simultaneously repulsed by and attracted to the thought.

Clark knelt pensively in front of the grave for a few minutes and then moved on, as was his custom, to another grave, a few yards over, in the Kent family plot.

The full moon reflected clearly one name written on the little gravestone which he himself had purchased. EVAN. Evan his almost son. The child that he and Lana had found and raised for a few short days until life had reclaimed him. The full moon reflected something that caught his eye. There atop Evan's gravestone lay a bouquet of fresh cut wildflowers. A chill ran up Clark's spine. Lana?

Clark shook his head at his own frivolity. The folks from the local Baptist church frequently brought in flowers and placed them on random graves. Here he was clutching at straws again, he thought to himself mirthlessly.

He stood up and brushed off his jeans and holding his breath, he walked to the last gravesite on his nightly agenda. Lewis and Laura Lang. Sure enough, two bouquets of flowers had been laid in front of their gravestone. Also wildflowers.

His heart thumping wildly, Clark stood up and scanned the other gravestones. He could see roses and carnations and any number and variety of hothouse flowers. But no wildflowers. All the other flowers seemed to be from local florists.

He knelt again in front of the Lang gravestone.

"Goodnight, Mr. and Mrs. Lang. I don't suppose you could tell me who brought these?" He nodded toward the wildflowers and eyed the unmoving gravestone as if half expecting a reply.

"Tell her how much I love her next time she stops by. Tell her I'm doing everything I can to find a way."

And then he stood up and scanned the horizon. No sign of her of course.

He headed home.

Sometime after 2:30 am, Clark finally allowed himself to crawl under the sheets and slept.

That night he dreamt of her. Dreams more powerful than himself. Her lips pressed to his, her body receiving his. Her love his. And when the alarm clock rang the next morning, half asleep, he felt her body next to his. Still halfway dreaming, he whispered into nothingness, " Lana".


	2. Chapter 2

Chapter Two: The Bigger They Are

Dr. Groll's small office was scrupulously clean as one would expect in a research facility. Even the bright morning sun, streaming through venetian blinds behind Dr. Groll's desk, was clean and pure, devoid of the microscopic flotsam and jetsam one would normally find in unfiltered light.

Piled atop the doctor's desk were numerous papers, and scale models of exotic machinery. In the room, more scale models and books vied with one another for space. The effect was semi chaotic, but still clean if nothing like neat.

Dr. Groll presently finished the reports from Dr. Spring, and looked at Lana Lang wonderingly. "So, it's true then?" he repeated yet again.

Lana was fresh out of conversation. She merely looked at the good doctor, rouged a bit, and nodded confirmation.

"And you're sure the baby is Clark's?"

Lana's eyes flashed dangerously for a second, and she opened her mouth to speak, thought better of it, and instead she merely nodded.

"Don't you think you should tell him?" he asked, but the look on Lana's face was terrifying enough to end the subject. The doctor shrugged and refocused his attention on the computer screen.

"The important thing we need to determine is whether or not the fetus is becoming infected with kyrptonite and to be honest I am not sure how to go about that." The doctor intoned, keeping his eyes glued on the computer screen, already lost in the problem. Dr. Groll was a born research scientist. And a brilliant one at that. For as long as he could remember, he had been infatuated with the unknown. He had insisted upon, and received, his first chemistry set for his eight birthday. When he was ten, he was mastering college level clinical research. In middle school, while other children were painfully and very involuntarily dissecting frogs, he was attending lectures at the local university.

In short, his scientific curiosity was boundless. But for once he felt more apprehension than anticipation when he thought of the events that were about to transpire.

Lana replied not at all but continued to appraise the doctor. Despite the fact that he had been recruited by Lex Luthor, she trusted him. Dr Groll had betrayed Lex and given her the Prometheus suit. And he had successfully created the equipment she needed using the schematics she had given him.

"This is the latest one," she said finally, and pushed a manila envelope across the desk.

The doctor opened the folder and retrieved its contents. As he read, his eyes began to began to read its contents. "Mass spectrometer, gas chromatograph... all this on a living person ? "How?..." he asked dazedly, a note of awe in his voice.

"You know I can't tell you, Doctor Groll, but it will work." Lana replied, her face closed to scrutiny. She then removed a very small box from her purse, and placed it very gently on Dr. Groll's desk. She looked up at him, her eyes dark and unreadable. The box looked to be an antique, and appeared to be lead.

"And I think this is our answer," she said quietly. Her eyes unblinking.

Dr. Groll inspected the box What he saw convinced him, for the first time, that these missives, written in Lana's even hand, were not the product of her nano powered imagination, but something much more. His heart began to beat faster. All doubts were forgotten.

"Where did you get this?" he asked, never taking his eyes off the wondrous contents of the leaden box.

Lana stiffened and cocked her head, obviously listening for any unusual sounds The effect was somewhat akin to a dappled deer in the forest listening for a hunter, Dr Groll thought to himself and resisted a smile.

After a few moments, Lana seemed to be assured there was no one listening, and she leaned forward and retrieved a folder from her purse and slid it underneath the box still sitting on the desk. "This will explain what to do with the contents of the box."

But the Doctor was not a man easily deterred. "My question remains, where did you get it?" he repeated.

Lana closed her eyes for several minutes, absentmindedly stroking the clear, crystalline pendant that hung about her neck. She appeared to have forgotten the doctor's question, but Dr. Groll knew better. Lana Lang never forgot anything, especially now with her augmentation.

At last, Lana leveled her gaze at the doctor. "You wouldn't believe me even if I told you, Doctor," she replied.

Dr. Groll shuddered. Coming from a girl with the promethean augmentation, a girl who could run faster than a speeding bullet, and bend steel with her bare hands, that was a very strong statement, indeed.

...

Clark Kent sat bolt upright, still mostly sleeping, and reached instictively for the pillow next to his, where Lana's head should be resting as she lay next to him. But of course, SHE wasn't there. Despite himself, Clark Kent heaved an odd sigh and heaved himself off the bed.. Lana Lang, even when she was nowhere to be found, which was usually, he reminded himself, brought out these emo feelings that were totally out of character for him.

Clark's thoughts rested a tick on the "usually nowhere to be found" factor in the Lana equation as he made himself breakfast and did the early morning Kent Farm chores. He felt that old resentment gnaw deep inside. It was true, Lana had never seemed to mind leaving him quite as much as he minded her leaving. This was a fact that stuck in Clark's craw, and tended to bring up his blood pressure, though he would never admit it.

After breakfast, Clark jumped in his truck and drove up to the north pasture to replace a few hundred yards of fencing. "We were FORCIBLY kept apart by Lex," Clark reminded himself as he drove. Lex, before his untimely but well deserved demise, had finally managed to separate Lana from him more or less permanently. Lana had stolen Lex's Prometheus suit, which he had created intending to transform his husk of a body into something approaching a superman. Instead, it was Lana who had used the suit to make herself Clark's equal, or at least as close as anyone could imagine.

Lex's vengeance had been profound. He had placed a Kryptonite bomb atop the Daily Planet Building, knowing that Lana would be the one forced to absorb the poisonous energy. The effect had been instant. Lana had transformed from Clark's life mate into someone whose mere presence caused him immeasurable pain.

Clark finally reached the spot where the fencing needed repairing. He parked his truck, and stood still and silent, listening for company. When his senses assured him that there was no one around, he easily lifted the fenceposts off the back of the pickup and pinched off the steel bands with his bare fingertips.

Clark shivered as he rapidly planted the posts, not bothering to dig post holes. It was not the early morning air that made him shiver, of course. It was yet another memory. Of Lana. In this case, of the few nights he and Super Lana had shared, in bed, as equals, after she had applied the Prometheus suit. Clark literally trembled as his photographic memory replayed the whole week in his mind. The power of those memories weeks later still sent shockwaves through his body, and frankly pissed him off.

Blushing, and a bit disgusted with himself, Clark sauntered back to the flatbed truck that was parked next to his pickup. He had left the flatbed there yesterday before work. In it, piled high, were several tons of factory fresh rolled barbed wire neatly stacked 3 up and across.

The area was secluded, so he absentmindedly peeled the barbed wire off the back of the pickup and began to expertly nail the wire to the posts, moving quickly, much too quickly for any human, from post to post and only stopping for a second at each one to nail up the wire. But the memories continued unabated. It wasn't the memories that Clark hated, he reminded himself. It was the questions those memories stirred up. The can of worms opened up in his soul; cancerous bloody questions that had only one answer, so far as he could tell.

One memory that was particularly virulent was that of Lana's Dear John video, which Lex had secretly engineered holding a pistol to Lana's temple, before abducting her. Clark kept asking himself, when Lana had managed to escape, why had she stayed away?

And then, when Lana had finally returned home, and crashed Chloe's wedding... another charming episode in the Clark and Lana show. Clark's heart twisted as his perfect memory replayed for him that evening when Lana had walked back into his life. Her mere existence as close to a body blow as he could imagine. He could still see her face, so perfect in every way, as she stood stock still in the Kent barn and beamed her smile like a lighthouse lamp across the room until her gaze came to rest on his shipwrecked carcass standing next to Lois. Clark had allowed himself the merest micro second of apologetic pang for Lois and then he had promptly forgotten her as he set his course toward Lana. Again, the questions came unwanted. Why had Lana stayed away so long? Why had she seemed so distant when she did finally return? And why had she taken on that damned Prometheus suit before she knew all the consequences?

These uneasy, heavy thoughts made it seem to Clark as if Lana loved his powers more than she loved him. Had she considered his feelings at all when she stayed away, or was it all about revenge? Or was it power? What ever it was, was Lana's craving for it more important to her than her love for him? As great as their nights together as equals had been, Clark had even then wondered why and how Lana had been able to trade away all that she was, fragility and all, without once asking him how he felt about it?

Clark felt the hot spark of anger or perhaps ego blaze within. He imagined his hand squeezing Lex's thin neck and heard a crunch. With a start, Clark snapped out of his daydream just as the post he had been squeezing disintegrated into extra fine sawdust and dissipated. With a sigh he sped to the pile of posts by the pickup and picked up a replacement.

Half an hour later, having finished his chores, Clark was on his way to Metropolis and the Daily Planet. He drove of course, and kept the car at a solid 55mph. Beneath his placid smile as he sped through morning traffic, and vaguely listened to golden oldies on 1540 AM, his mind still seethed with questions. The same questions that had plagued him day and night since the day of their forced separation, and even before then. And the number one question on his mind was always the same. How did this happen, and how would he find a cure for Lana? And finally, the nagging, age-old question, exactly what DID LANA WANT?

Clark arrived at work to an email from Oliver. The members of the Justice League wanted to induct Lana Lang. Oliver's email expounded on Lana's qualifications as if she were a complete stranger which made Clark smile . Oliver finished the email by stating outright that if Clark was against the plan, Lana would not be invited.

Clark took all of twenty seconds to make his decision. For him, having Lana in his life was a no-brainer. If she became a member of the justice league, there would be video conferences, emails, remote brainstorming sessions. Clark felt exhilirated! He would see her, if only on camera, hear her voice.

Suddenly light hearted, Clark dialed Oliver and gave his approval, not even trying to hide his enthusiasm. It wasn't until he hung up that Clark gave a thought to what Lana's response would likely be, and Clark began to feel a bit apprehensive. What if Lana said no? This situation, with Lana now kryptonite radioactive to Clark, was difficult for both of them. But Lana refused to even SEE Clark from a distance, because it was so painful for her. Clark's heart sank for a minute, but then he thought, with just a trace of bitterness, about how seriously Lana took her new status as a superhero. Lana just might do it.

...

The two nurses peered nervously into room 343, as quietly as they could. No sense in waking HER up. Please god no. The patient, a young newlywed named Jimmy Olsen, slept soundly, snoring in time with the biotelemetry and miscellaneous other monitors and tubes attached to various parts of his body. The elder of the two women picked up a marker hanging from a string attached to the whiteboard by the door and wrote in flowery script "JOANNA your nurse" and wordlessly handed the marker to the other girl, who wrote "your CNA JAMYE" and then, not to be outdone, produced a very credible flourish underneath. Both ladies smiled approvingly at Jimmy Olsen. Mr. Olsen and his young bride, Chloe were quite the hit on the third floor of Star General Hospital.

The same could not be said for THE OTHER ONE, however. The two ladies exchanged smiles for frowns as their gaze shifted to Lois Lane, snoring loudly in a visitors chair pulled next to Jimmy's hospital bed. Her feet were propped on the spread, her heel leaving a smudge on the bleach white pillow case folded beneath.

The two nurses looked on disapprovingly and then glanced at one another and hurried from the room. "We don't want to wake BOSSYPANTS!" the elder one hissed as they quickly made their escape.

"Too late thunder toes!" Lois yawned loudly at the departing nurses, who jumped when they heard her voice, but continued out of the room at an even faster pace.

Lois stretched and yawned again and called out louder "Try and show some respect for your sleeping patients, for chrissake!" Clearly oblivious to the irony.

Just then Chloe sailed into the room, carrying two cups of cappuccino. "Lois its barely 6 a.m., shush!" she cautioned sotto voice and glanced over at the still sleeping Jimmy. She handed one of the cups to Lois.

Lois sipped her cup greedily. "Super Mocha Latte Organic Cinnamon?"

"What else?" Chloe returned brightly, as she plopped her things down and planted a kiss on Jimmy's forehead. His eyelids fluttered but his breathing retained that even pattern of someone heavily medicated.

Lois exulted that her "shift" was over and heaved a sigh of relief. She was bored. Jimmy was several weeks into what was turning out to be a full recovery, and Lois longed to get back in the saddle, metaphorically speaking. She had been on extended leave from the Daily Planet for several weeks now and she missed it! She hadn't realized just how much journalism had gotten into her blood. Go figure!

And, although she was very loathe to admit it, she missed Smallville, and that would be Smallville AKA Clark Kent, certainly not the sleepy farm community. She missed seeing his goofy farmboy face every day at his desk across from hers. She missed his simple minded sweetness and lack of pretense. Heck, she missed things about him that she would never admit, even to herself, such as his unfailing kindness to others, his generosity, and his total lack of social pretense.

Lois Lane was many things, but stupid she was not. All this "missing" Clark Kent had hit a fever pitch when she had been stuck in Star City, team tag caregiver with Chloe, while Clark Kent was shacking up with Lana Lang.

Lois found herself recoiling inside at the mere mention of Lana's name. It wasn't that she disliked Lana. Lois had always admired Lana and liked her tremendously, even now... But now Lois had to admit the truth, if only to herself. Lois Lane was jealous of Lana Lang. She didn't know when this new wrinkle had started, but she had become aware of it the night that Lana had walked back into their lives at the "Reception from Hell" as she and Chloe had taken to calling it.

Clark had always been crazy for Lana, Lois knew that. But during the months of Lana's absence, Lois had begun to feel a bond growing between herself and Clark. And then at the RFH, Lana had simply marched right back into Clark's life, and it was "I LOVE LANA" all over again. Lois had marshaled every drop of artillery at her command to fight back. From lost puppy dog eyes to long talks with Clark's friends on front porches, nothing had worked.

And then, something unbelievable had happened. One night a week or so earlier, while Lois and Chloe and Jimmy were playing hearts, Chloe had let it slip. Clark Kent and Lana Lang had ended it. FOREVER. Chloe's words. But Chloe would say no more. Jimmy had immediately taken to reassuring Lois that now was the beginning of a new era. The Lois and Clark era, as he liked to call it.

Lois had thought about little else in the intervening week, and now, as she helped Chloe get Jimmy awake she tried to think of a way to broach the subject. The three of them sipped their coffee and hashed the latest news and gossip, Lois waiting for the right moment to bring up a certain somebody. Considering that they were reporters for a major metropolitan newspaper, they had the news covered.

The gossip was another matter; most everyone they knew was either in Metropolis or Smallville. Chloe, however had just returned from there. She had spent the day at the Talon paying bills, collecting mail and miscellaneous other things. It was the other things that commanded Lois' rapt attention. In Chloe's case, "other things" would almost invariably include Clark Kent.

Lois waited patiently (for Lois) as Chloe droned on and on about who was dating who, and who was doing what to whom. But for once and much to Lois' dismay, Chloe made no mention of Clark

Finally Lois couldn't stand it. "So cuz, any news from the Shady Planet?" she asked, adopting as casual a tone as she could manage.

Chloe was not fooled. Lois had been stressed since the RFH, and it was obvious why. Things had only gotten worse with Lois since Chloe had blabbed to her about Clark's breakup with Lana. Chloe had done it on purpose, hoping that the news would relax Lois, but exactly the opposite had happened. Lois seemed more and more fixated and so Chloe decided on this particular morning to keep the news general and less Clark centric.

"Lucius Blackburn was indicted for mismanagement of the canon project," Chloe began, reading from a list printed at Isis that morning.

Lois nodded as if she cared. "That's the gentrification project on the east side isn't it?"

Chloe agreed that it was. "Yes, it starts on Bristol and goes all the way to Tobler Ave."

"Next!" Lois interjected, clearly bored with the subject.

"Lois!" Chloe sputtered, "The Isis foundation is on Bristol..."

"Next!" Lois interrupted.

Chloe hid her exasperation and went to the next item on her list. This one was for all the money; "Metropolis General opened their new wing," Chloe said as casually as she could. Chloe shot Lois a quick glance to check if it registered. And register it did! Lois eyes were giant saucers.

"Hmmm," Lois began cautiously, trying to sound disinterested, a sure sigm that she was anything but. "Might be time to see about transferring Ole Papa Bear to Metropolis General?"

Lois poked Jimmy playfully. "Whaddya think Papa Bear, wanna get closer to home base?"

Chloe stifled a chuckle and grasped Jimmy's hand, and with the most serious expression she could manage, said, "Jimmy do you feel up to the transfer?"

Jimmy grinned broadly and took a big gulp of coffee to wash down his morning oatmeal."Sounds good to me" he began. And then he added slyly "Lois can finally score some time with Clark." his grin widening.

Chloe turned away to hide her grin and Lois turned crimson. She began to sputter. "Clark and me? Wha... Jimmy we need to have those meds checked!"

Lois continued to sputter as she quickly collected her things and began backing out of the room. "Seriously, cuz, there is something seriously wrong with Jimmy." She glared at Jimmy once again as she departed. "Ummm..you take care of that while I'm at the hotel...ummm...well see ya in a few!"

Lois turned to make her escape.

"Lois?"

Lois stopped in her tracks and warily glanced back at her cousin. "Yeah?"

Chloe reached into her coat pocket and withdrew a set of keys. "You might need these."

Lois turned a deeper shade of red, brusquely snatched the keys and stalked out, calling out to Chloe behind her, "Seriously, cuz, have Jimmy checked out."

The entire nurses station noticed as Lois stalked past, headed for the elevators. They high-fived each other as the elevator doors closed, hopefully affording them peace and quiet at least until their shifts were over.

One of the nurses watched as Lois sailed past the nurses station and entered an elevator. As soon as the doors slid shut, she ducked into the med room, fished her cell phone from her pocket and quickly dialed. A woman's voice answered at the other end. "Stella," Joanna whispered into the phone, "The Lane girl just left." and quickly hung up.

...

Kevin stopped at the imposing Victorian brownstone and unfurled the scrap of paper and flipped on his flashlight. The beam of light illuminated an address written on the yellowing paper. He shined his flashlight on the wrought iron numbers on the gate. Fifteen hundred and two. A match. He tried the gate; locked! Kevin searched around until he found a largish rock and began pounding the rock against the iron gates. It wasn't long before two sleepy eyed guards appeared.

The guards shined their flashlights on him, and down the street. "Get lost, kid," the shorter one growled, and they both turned to leave.

"Make me!" Kevin shouted, his eyes twinkling madly.

The two guards looked at the puny punk and shook their heads. The taller guard, who looked to be on roids, sneered at the young interloper. "Look, fool, it's time for you to get home."

Kevin grinned widely . "Nah, actually I went to YOUR home and did your wife."

"That's it!" the taller guard cried, red faced, as he slammed back a lever and thrust open the gate. "C'mere punk!"

Kevin stepped forward and flashed a very odd smile. "Gladly," he purred. And walked past the two men, who now stood quite motionless. Half an hour later they both suddenly realized they were standing outside the open gate. And Kevin Grady had found what he was looking for.


End file.
